


the past is far behind us

by Corvid404



Series: deification [3]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gore, SPECIFIC WARNINGS IN THE NOTES OF EACH CHAPTER
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29618346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvid404/pseuds/Corvid404
Summary: From childhood to adulthood, the only constant in Dream's life was how nothing was ever in his favor. Some days he feels like he was doomed from the moment he was put into the world, cursed to suffer countless losses at the cruel hands of fate. Other days, he's reminded that fate is something he can mold to be whatever he wants, and what he wants is to not to be so helpless anymore.-A series of connected one-shots that shed light onto who Dream was before his infamous SMP.Prequel to “hate me when i’m dead” and “requiem for a god,” however feel free to read as a standalone.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: deification [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138985
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	1. runaway children

**Author's Note:**

> **Table of Contents**  
>  1\. runaway children  
>  _An attempted hunting trip comes to an abrupt end when Sapnap is body-slammed into the ground by a strange, wild-looking kid barely any older than he is._
> 
> 2\. nightmares  
>  _Dream has a nightmare, and George reminds him it isn't real._
> 
> 3\. a runner by nature  
>  _Sapnap accompanies Dream on a speedrun and asks him why he does it, then does something a little stupid._

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An attempted hunting trip comes to an abrupt end when Sapnap is body-slammed into the ground by a strange, wild-looking kid barely any older than he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CONTENT WARNING: Mild gore (description of injuries).**

Sapnap mumbled incoherently to himself as he navigated the brambles and barely-used paths, tripping where a pile of leaves obscured a root. He’d left George in town to try and barter for items—he was just old enough that he didn’t get many questioning looks—while he went off to try and hunt, except he wasn’t any good at it. For now, he could use with some target practice.

Eventually, he arrived at a perfect set of trees, all grown in a row. _Awesome._ He slung his too-big-for-him bow off his shoulder and drew an arrow from his quiver, ignoring the way his hands shook. He exhaled, placing the arrow on the string. He inhaled as he drew the string back. He held his breath, aiming for the tree in the dead center.

He barely had time to let go of the string when suddenly-

_Slam!_

In a blur of action, the arrow flew straight into the ground as something—or rather _someone_ —slammed into him, knocking them both onto the ground in a jumble of limbs. He looked up, locking eyes with the culprit: a kid, probably his age, that was all wild blond hair and panicked green eyes and a face full of freckles. Before he had time to process what just happened, the other kid scrambled to his feet and continued sprinting down the path, kicking dirt into Sapnap’s face in the process.

_What the hell?_

He slowly stood up, inhaling shakily as his gaze trailed after the path of shoved-off branches and broken twigs that headed in either direction of him. How did he _miss_ that coming? Too focused on his aim, maybe?

He walked over to where his arrow had landed in the ground, picking it up and sliding it back into his quiver. Today was just not his day, he supposed. At the sound of approaching, very _adult_ shouts, he whipped his head around in search of the source. Shit, was George looking for him? It didn’t… _sound_ like George, he knew his friend’s annoyed calls from a mile away. No, these shouts were angry, frantic, mixed with the sound of loading crossbows.

Two and two clicked, and Sapnap started sprinting after the other kid. 

At first, he thought he’d lost him, stumbling along the messy path through the underbrush to where it suddenly ended. It ended, it ended, _crap_ , this wasn’t good. He frantically spun in a circle, looking for any sort of hint that this kid was there, that he wasn’t lost, that he hadn’t run straight into the hunting party and gotten a crossbow bolt through the eye. He always thought stories about hunting parties were just tales to keep him from wandering too far into the woods, but with one now hot on some random kid’s trail, he was starting to believe them.

Just as he was about to give up, he heard leaves rustle above him, and there he was. The wild-looking kid was precariously perched on a branch, a hand placed against the trunk of the tree to steady himself as he stared down. The look he was met with was terrifying—it was like he was being looked through, like he was a target to be evaluated, being searched for an excuse to fight.

After a solid moment of staring each other down, the other spoke up, “You aren’t… you aren’t with _them_ are you?” he asked, tone hushed. He sounded out of breath, like he’d been running for longer than he let on.

Sapnap rapidly shook his head no. 

“Ok, ok good.”

At the returning crunch of breaking twigs and bushes being torn away, the other kid suddenly stood and climbed higher into the tree with a hiss of, _“Get down.”_

He didn’t need to be told twice, leaping into the nearest bush and dropping to lay on the dirt. His heart pounded in his ears, climbing up his throat as the thundering stomp of boots grew closer. Their voices started filling up the empty space—five or six unique voices, talking over each other with directions and call-outs and shouts.

_“Where is that fucking kid?” “He’s gotta be around here somewhere.” “That little shit’s so nimble, I think we lost him.” “Goddamnit, let’s go back to where we saw him last. Maybe we missed something.” “No, he had to have gone this way, there’s no way he didn’t. We saw him run this way.” “Yeah, and he could’ve gone back. Let’s just go.”_

The minutes ticked by at a turtle’s pace, his heart pounding at a million times a second. Shit, shit, hunting parties were _real,_ and he was hiding with someone being _hunted,_ and the party was hunting a _kid._ He didn’t know they could hunt _kids_.

After what felt like hours, the yelling subsided and their footsteps retreated. He didn’t realize they were fully gone until he was startled by the sound of sneakers hitting the dirt. “You can uh, you can get up now.”

Sapnap clambered to his feet, hastily brushing the dirt off his hands and knees as he stepped out of the bush. He looked at the kid in front of him, finally seeing him in full. He didn’t look anything special, if anything he looked like he’d been through hell. He was absently picking off the leaves and twigs that were stuck to his green hoodie, and a small bag was strapped over his shoulder. His hair looked like he hadn’t had the chance to brush it in a week, full of knots and leaves, and he was covered in dirt head-to-toe—or at least he hoped it was dirt—particularly dark stains on his right shoulder and matching forearm.

Sap awkwardly cleared his throat, unsure of where to even begin. “Uh, hi?”

His greeting was ignored as the other slid down the tree to sit on the ground, pulling off his bag to sort through its contents.

“Are you okay? Do you need help?”

A glare was cast up at him as the other pulled out a half-spent roll of bandages.

Welp. Here went nothing. “Why is there a hunting party after you? Aren’t those for like, criminals?”

The other pulled up his sleeves to reveal a stained bandage on his right forearm, wincing as he tapped it before finally replying, “Yeah, they are.”

A half-answer was better than no answer at all.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, watching the other slowly peel off the bandage. He didn’t have it in him to look at whatever was being uncovered, gaze solidly focused on the other’s concentrated look. “Um, I’m traveling with another friend of mine. You can- you can travel with us, if you want.”

The other ceased his movements, caught in the middle of rewrapping his arm. “Excuse me?”

Sapnap dropped to squat on the ground in front of him. “Yeah! We kind of need another person, actually. To- um, to…”

As the two locked eyes, he was met with a harsh, venomous glare. The same glare that stared through him earlier, analyzing, looking for a way out. “You realize you’re putting targets on _your_ backs too, right?”

Sapnap shrugged. “Yeah, but I- I can’t leave you here. We’re staying in a village tonight, the guard there can protect us.”

Tense silence filled the space between them, the other kid slowly returning to wrapping his arm, the glare melting away. He wondered what the other kid knew, what he’d done previously to be backed into such a tight corner, to be covered in blood and dirt and forced to run. Eventually, the other spoke up, “Dream.”

Sapnap sputtered out a series of nonsense vowels and consonants before saying, “What?”

“Dream. My name’s Dream.”

His eyes lit up, a bright smile splitting his face. “And I’m Sapnap!”

Dream smiled back at him—a far smaller, cautious smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. “Nice to meet you, now can we get on with this?” He stood up and tucked his roll of bandages back into his bag before gesturing backwards, “They’re gonna figure out I didn’t actually double back soon.”

Sapnap quickly nodded, rising to his feet and leading his new friend back through the woods. 

The trek back was far faster than the walk there, with the narrow paths already somewhat cleared. It was still a long walk, and every time he glanced back at Dream he looked ready to jump out of his skin at every strange noise. But, before he knew it, they were back on the main path, the village’s lanterns lighting up as dusk started to settle.

The hustle of the day was dying down, shop owners and citizens retreating into their homes as iron golems and guardsmen took to the outskirts. He guided Dream towards an inn, waving at a very confused George.

“Hi Gogy!” He stopped in front of his friend, smiling stupidly. “I have a new friend.”

“I assumed, dumbarse,” George retorted, staring at the other standing behind him, “Sapnap, we _really_ don’t need a third person.”

He felt Dream shift to stand completely behind him.

“Whaat? C’mon George, he can help us!”

“How?”

Sapnap turned his head to look at Dream, eyes staring through George before he started absently sputtering anything he could think of. “I- I can hunt, I’m actually really good at it. I can climb to scout ahead really far, um- uh… I-”

George silenced him with a huff and a flick of his hand. “We can talk more about this inside, c’mon.” The two then followed the third inside and up the stairs into a room.

Sapnap couldn’t help but notice Dream’s hesitation.

-

George kneeled to the ground and started sifting through his pack for anything that would help his younger friend’s newly acquired accomplice in cleaning up—it didn’t take a genius to know he was a disaster, his entire _being_ reeked of blood and dirt. Said accomplice was sitting on the edge of the only bed in the room, gaze constantly flicking around as Sapnap let every single thought that crossed his mind fall out of his mouth. It was endearing, watching the kid finally have someone his age to talk to. Not that George was really all that much older than him, but it was enough of a gap that he got annoyed with him rather quickly.

At last, he pulled out a package of thick cloth and a healing potion. “Uh, Dream you said your name was?” he called, standing and turning to face the other two.

Dream nodded his head.

“I wanna look at your arm and shoulder,” he stated plainly, walking over to sit on the bed next to him, moving as slowly as he could. In the thirty minutes they’d known each other, he’d learned two things about the wild blond-haired child he was going to be traveling with: his name was Dream, and any sort of sudden movements made him reach for his knife.

Green eyes blinked back at him.

“That means you have to take your hoodie off.”

Dream looked at him, back to Sapnap, then shook his head and mumbled something.

“Dream, speak up, I can’t hear you.”

“It’s bad,” he repeated, “Um, Sapnap might- you might want to leave.”

At the mention of his name and the request to leave, Sapnap glared at George. “What?! No, I don’t wanna _leave,_ what if I can-”

“ _Sapnap_.” That was all it took for the youngest boy to stop protesting, mumbling to himself as he stood and went into the attached bathroom.

George could have taken Dream into there to help him clean up, but that water was questionable at best—he’d rather not take any chances.

Once Sapnap was out of sight, George shuffled over a bit to give the other space to pull his hoodie off, watching as he winced with the movement of his shoulder.

_Bad_ was accurate.

“I’m going to start with your arm since it’s right there,” he stated, before he carefully started to unwrap the bandage on his boy’s right arm—recently replaced, thankfully. His heart sunk seeing the wound it covered. He could hardly even tell what it was, scabbing mixed with dirt and blood, but it was definitely bad. From what he could see, it must’ve been defensive, a deep slash on the inside of his arm as if trying to shove someone away or block the weapon from his chest. 

“This… this should’ve killed you,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

He was surprised when Dream nodded back to him, replying in a tone far too cheery for the topic, “Yeah, it should’ve.”

He looked into the younger’s eyes, and didn’t like what he saw: pride. No one should be _proud_ of surviving a deadly injury.

“I’ll try to clean and treat it for you in a minute,” he stated, tone shaking a bit more than he wanted it to, “I’m going to look at your shoulder now, since that seems to be bothering you a lot. Are you ok with taking your shirt off?”

Dream nodded, and slowly complied.

His shoulder was somehow _worse._

A nasty-looking stab that just missed his collarbone. It didn’t seem like it’d ever fully scabbed over, still slowly seeping blood. It made sense: a kid on the run didn’t have time to consider whether his actions were going to reopen his wounds or not, only that he didn’t want to die. 

With a solid idea of what he was working with, George retrieved the cloths, healing potion, as well as a roll of bandages and a bottle of water. “Alright, here’s the plan, Dream: I’m going to gently wash your arm and shoulder, then put some _proper_ dressings on them for you. Tell me if anything hurts or you want me to stop.”

Dream, once again, nodded, and George did exactly as he said he would as quickly and painlessly as possible.

Once he was done, he walked over to his own bag to pull out a clean shirt to toss him. “We’ll get you a clean shirt of your own and a few extra supplies for you tomorrow,” he stated, watching as Dream eyed the shirt over carefully, “For now, you can wear my extra one.”

Dream stared up at him, head tilted. “Are you… uh, are you sure?”

George blinked, before chuckling. “Of course I’m sure. Sapnap wants you around for some reason, so we’ll help you out.”

That seemed good enough for Dream, tossing the shirt over his head. George knocked on the bathroom door to let Sapnap know he could come out now. Of course, the first thing he did was start spewing about how the bathroom was disgusting, he’d rather bathe in lava than whatever came out of the tap. Dream snickered and started telling a story about a cat pissing in his family’s drinking well, while George was content to just listen.

For his age, Sapnap was an amazing judge of character, and had a huge heart to match. He wasn’t exactly sure why he’d latched his little sights on Dream, the same way he didn’t know why he’d latched onto him, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t thankful for it, and he’d make sure Dream was too.

This felt like the start of something. Of what, he wasn’t certain, but he was optimistic.


	2. nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream has a nightmare, and George reminds him it isn't real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CONTENT WARNING: Gore, vomit.**

The world swayed in Dream’s vision, constantly spinning and swirling and keeping the ground just out of his reach. He was running, crushing leaves and twigs with his every step. He ached, his shoulder hurt _so much_ , but he had to keep moving, throwing himself from cover to cover. He couldn’t let them catch him. _He couldn’t let them catch him._

It was dark, moonlight obscured behind thick clouds as he stumbled through the woods. The trees were bare, leaves having fallen off everything purely to cover the ground and obscure his footing. He tripped over a root he didn’t see, cries of pain dying in his throat as his arms buckled under him after he threw them forward to break his fall. He was on the ground, he couldn’t get up, they were here, they were here _they were here._

He rolled over to see a crossbow aimed at his throat, and weakly raised a hand to try and push it away. The world morphed, and instead of seeing a faceless hunter with it’s boot on his chest and a crossbow to his head, it was _BadPuffySapnapGeorge_ kneeling over him, knife in hand, their entire body coated in blood.

_“Please,”_ he croaked, _“Please, don’t do this to me.”_

He was too late. Too little too late, too late too late _too late._ The knife plunged into his shoulder, his own blood splattering onto _BadPuffySapnapGeorge_ ’s face, and gods why were they fucking _smiling?_ He felt the blood in his throat, he was going to die, he was going to be sick, he was—

Dream shot up out of his sleeping bag, blearily getting to his feet and stumbling out of the campfire’s range. He had to leave, he had to run, but he didn’t manage to get far before tripping and landing on his knees, bile forcing its way up his throat.

_Shit._

For a moment, all he could do was sit on the ground, stare at his own puddle of vomit, and try to breathe. 

“Hey, you good?” he heard, and weakly turned his head to see George standing a few steps away from him. He gave a dismissive wave that only prompted him to come closer and sit next to him. “Dream,” George cooed, gently placing an arm over his shoulder, “You’re ok, you’re here, no one is coming to hurt you.”

The reassurance was all he needed to admit defeat, leaning into the touch. “I know,” he muttered, “I know.”

His friend helped him to his feet, guiding him back to the campfire. Once he was safely seated back on his sleeping bag, George spoke up again. “You were uh, talking in your sleep again.”

Dream reached over for his water flask, playing with the cap. “Was I?” Was that what gave it away? Or was it him practically throwing himself to stand, stumbling away and throwing up?

George gave an affirmative _Mmhmm_ as he sat next to him. “I was going to wake you up, then you just kinda… well.” He gestured towards the tree that Dream had stumbled into.

Dream nodded, turning his attention back to his flask, flicking the cap to spin it on and off. “‘M sorry for always worrying you guys so much,” he mumbled, “Travelling again is just—”

George shushed him, pulling him into a gentle hug. “Dream, we get it. You haven’t traveled this much since then, you can’t help it. We’re here for you.”

He felt stupid; all he could do was continue to nod along. He’d heard this a dozen times from Sapnap and George—and now Bad—but he’d need to hear it a dozen more before it ever stuck. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes. He was supposed to be their leader, their navigator, the one at the front of the group scouting ahead for obstructions in the path and clearing any stray mobs, but some days he felt like he’d barely aged a day in the last two years; like he was still just a scared kid running for his life. Some days he felt so helpless, like every unexpected sound from the forest was a hunter coming to kill him, a pillager coming to slaughter the village he’d spent so long learning to trust. His feet would drag, and his position in the front felt more like a burden than a duty he carried with pride.

Those days, even when he refused to admit that he couldn’t do it, that he was going to protect them all because he _had to,_ he was thankful for his friends. Sometimes their presence alone dispelled his paranoia, sometimes it was their gentle words of encouragement and reassurances. He wasn’t prey to be hunted down and slaughtered, he was a _fighter_ and he’d be _damned_ if he let a few dumb nightmares get in his way.

“Hey, how’s this,” George started, pulling Dream out of his thoughts, “I’ll stay up with you. You were supposed to take next watch anyway, and since you’re helping me, I’ll help you.”

Dream swallowed; his tongue felt thick and his throat still burned. “Yeah, that—that sounds like it’ll work.”

His friend nodded, smiling brightly. “Of course it will!”

When Dream fell back asleep half-way through his watch, George didn’t wake him. When he slept in an hour late, Sapnap packed what items he could for him, and assured him he was fine when he woke up. When his whole body shook as they walked through the forest, tears blurring his vision as he nearly tripped over a tree root, Bad took the lead. Wordless agreements made of quick glances between them, holding up promises to take care of each other that they made months ago.

He couldn’t have been more thankful for the people he chose to keep by his side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear there'll be happy stories in this. just gotta get thru the traumatic ones first :)


	3. a runner by nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sapnap accompanies Dream on a speedrun and asks him why he does it, then does something a little stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by a line i wrote for chapter 10 of requiem for a god :)) you'll see it when i post it in 10 years.

Sapnap stared upwards in awe at the fantastic display of light and falling baubles of magic, basking in the fantasy of it. The most powerful creature in the game was dead after only a few explosions and carefully placed axe hits. His head spun watching it, and his eyes burned from staring directly into the light, but he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d watched the Dragon die, and every time he forgot just how beautiful it was.

His ogling was cut off by a shout of joy next to him, and he looked over to see Dream, who was  _ glowing.  _ His silhouette was outlined in bright purple, the ground shaking beneath him as the message  _ Dream has made the advancement [Free the End] _ splashed across his communicator’s screen. Dream ran beneath the Dragon and threw his axe into her quickly disintegrating body, his laughter and cries of celebration echoing through the empty space. With his back facing Sapnap, he unclasped his mask and discarded it onto the ground, face turned up to look into the last rays of the Dragon’s dying light. White and yellow baubles rained onto his head and shoulders as he stared upwards, washing him in golden light.

Sapnap would be lying if he said he wasn’t blown away by the look on Dream’s face when he finally turned to face him; his bright green eyes shone with absorbed magic and pride, with a wild grin splitting his face. He looked feral. He looked ethereal. He looked ready to summon the Dragon back from the void and kill her again.

“We did it!” he shouted, sprinting across the end stone with his arms open. Sapnap barely had time to brace himself before Dream came crashing into him, throwing them both to the ground with a fit of manic laughter. “We did it, Sapnap! We did it in—” He pushed himself to sit up and pulled the stopwatch off his belt, eyes glittering as he clicked it, “Forty-eight thirty-two!”

Sapnap met his eyes again, and wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be afraid or incredibly attracted to the glint they held. It felt like locking eyes with an enderman while on half a heart, moments before certain death but accepting of your fate. Dream wouldn’t hurt him though—not in these circumstances—and the wild edge behind his smile faded as he put the stopwatch back on his belt and pulled Sapnap into a hug.

“Holy shit dude, that’s a personal best for you, isn’t it?” Dream continued, and Sapnap could feel his friend’s heart pounding into his chest. 

He shrugged. “Nothing compared to what you can do on your own.”

A hand ran down his back, and the sensation felt like electricity. “This is totally different,” Dream assured him, “We had to account for each other, and use different techniques to make the best of split resources.”

Sapnap chuckled, pushing on his friend’s chest to get him off of him. Dream was still seated on his legs, but he wasn’t going to complain. “Yeah, and we probably could’ve shaved off a few hours if you weren’t constantly trying to explain all of the stupid techniques to me.”

He shrugged, leaning back on his hands. “You said you wanted to tag along to learn, so I tried to teach you.”

“By observation, dumbass!” he snapped back, landing a few playful punches, “I didn’t realize I signed up to be  _ part _ of it.”

Dream threw a hand up in defense, guarding his precious face from any blows, a bright smile still painted on his features. “You would’ve gotten in my way! I had to put you to use,” he replied.

Sapnap huffed and scooted himself backwards, Dream standing up to free the other from under him—he wished they could have sat like that forever, with Dream in his lap and his hands on his back. He watched intently as his friend strolled towards the bedrock pillar, a portal now humming around it. There was no drive to his steps anymore, moving without any solid purpose. The other casually leapt over the portal, gripping the slick bedrock pillar and hitting the egg to make it teleport, before turning around and kicking himself back onto solid ground.

With no dying Dragon to ogle anymore, his gaze stayed on his best friend as he made his way around the surrounding area, picking up his discarded axe and mask and stowing them into his inventory. He didn’t understand, and he supposed he never would, why someone who was plagued by nightmares of running would be so compelled to do it for  _ fun. _

“Hey uh, Dream?” he called out, waiting for his friend to turn and face him, “What’s like, the point in this?”

He shrugged. “It’s the rush,” he replied, “The thrill of throwing yourself into the world and seeing how fast you can take down a god.”

That only confused him more, an expression that must’ve been plain on his face by the way Dream doubled over wheezing. He walked back over and seated himself in front of Sapnap, legs crossed and arms stretched out to settle on his shoulders. “I can’t think of any better way to describe it than being drunk on adrenaline after killing her,” he continued, “You throw yourself to the edge of your limits, then push yourself further until you either break or succeed.” The wild, glowing glint made its return as their eyes locked. “It’s exhilarating.”

He didn’t think it was possible to love someone more than in that moment, having joined his best friend in his greatest passion and listening to him ramble about it for days on end. Seeing him now, only a foot or two away from him, cast in soft purples and greens from the End and literally glowing from the magic the Dragon had left behind, Dream was beautiful. 

Dream trailed his hands down Sapnap’s arms before removing them entirely, retreating into his own space with a content sigh. “Ready to go home?” he asked, offering a hand to help Sapnap up.

His head still spun from earlier, and before he knew it he’d taken Dream’s hand and used it to drag him into his space and lock their lips together. His hands found themselves cupping his best friend’s neck and jaw, and he was relieved when he felt Dream’s arms wrap around his waist and he sighed into the kiss. It was soft and gentle, nothing like the playful and joking kisses that were hastily shoved away as rewards for stupid challenges; it was affectionate and genuine, shared between two teens who, if only for a moment, loved each other. Dream tasted like lavender and honey, sweet and inviting and intoxicating. They were  _ kissing, _ and it felt like heaven. 

He hadn’t realized he’d shoved Dream onto the ground until their lips parted and he found himself leaning over the other, hands in his hair and a knee planted between his legs. Sapnap’s face flushed hot red seeing the confusion in his friend’s expression, and he sat up hastily with a nervous giggle.

“S-Sorry,” he muttered, “I—”

Dream cut him off with a soft, “Hey, it’s cool.” He sat up on his elbows and reached a hand out to cup Sapnap’s face. “I think you needed that.” He offered a small laugh, a sound so warm and kind and  _ damnit why did he want to kiss him again? _ “You don’t do this a lot, it’s a pretty insane high if you aren’t used to it. Pushes you to do weird shit.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, “Just—Just the adrenaline and stuff.” It felt like it was a lot more than just the rush, but he supposed he wouldn’t know until they left and it wore off. Something about Dream referencing what he’d just pulled as “weird shit” didn’t sit right with him, but he wasn’t sure if he would’ve come up with better wording if the positions were reversed.

“Alright, let’s get outta here,” Dream stated, taking Sapnap with him as he stood up. He reached to take his friend’s hand, and was relieved when it wasn’t shaken away. Not that he’d do that—Dream rarely declined his constant need for contact—but part of him felt like he’d just crossed a line and that his friend would’ve wanted space.

They walked over to the portal and jumped in together, and the cold of the End was quickly replaced with shimmering heat as they arrived back in the desert village they’d spawned in. Dream slipped his mask back on and gripped his hand tighter.

“Ready to go?”

Sapnap nodded, and after a nauseating world-switch they were back at the inn George had rented, the aforementioned man fast asleep in his bed as dawn started to peek through the window. 

“I think we should bring him along next time,” Sapnap whispered, gesturing to their sleeping friend.

Dream snickered, letting go of his hand to sort through his travel bag leaning against the wall. “I think he’d slow us down too much.”

His gaze moved from his still-glowing friend to the window, watching as the sun steadily rose over the horizon. Even after he’d explained it to him, Sapnap didn’t think he’d ever understand Dream’s need to single-handedly kill god after god on a regular basis, running through empty worlds to test his speed. What did he have to prove? But it made him happy, and who was he to judge what made his friends happy when the pinnacle of joy to him was going to a new world and setting everything on fire. Maybe he and Dream had that in common: A strange fixation with destruction.


End file.
